


A Self Examination

by Whoops_heck



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bokuto is a good friend, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, References to Depression, Therapy, he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:51:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoops_heck/pseuds/Whoops_heck
Summary: What's your favorite color?"Akaashi's thoughts traveled instantly to the image of a sunset creeping over the horizon. To jewlery hanging off of a wealthy woman's neck. To blazing eyes full of excitment. To human inferno's that set his heart on fire. To Bokuto and everything that cane with him."Blue."Better to lie than raise suspicion.





	A Self Examination

"Ok due Tuesday is an examination of one's self. Please have it written in ink or typed out. I'm expecting some quality time be spent on this, it's worth twenty percent of your grade this semester."

The teachers voice rang through the classroom as he desperately tried to convey to his students just how important this assignment was.

As could be expected, they packed up as quickly as possible and shuffled out of the room like a herd of startled cattle. Akaashi almost snorted at the thought. His classmates really were just a mindless group of kids trying to make it through the day. 

\-----

"Hey Bokuto, can you help me with an assignment?"

"What? You know I'm not good with school stuff. Really you could probably get Komi or something. You're grade would be better if he helped you."

Sitting down on the bleachers painted an annoyingly vibrant yellow Akaashi looked up at his captain. Sighing a little more aggressively than necessary the boy tutned his eyes to the ceiling. A balloon from their prom lingered, bright blue faded to a dull grey. That had been months ago.

"I don't need that kind of help. Will you help me or not?"

"Ok sure." Bokuto breathed out worry clear in his voice taking Akaashi's hand in his, "Everything alright?" "It is now, thank you." 

Bokuto looked to his setter and smiled widely. Teeth exposed, Akaashi thought, if we were monkeys he would be begging for his life.

Weird thought, weird thought. See Akaashi, this is why Bokuto's your only friend. Oh god, what the hell even made me think of th-

"So what's the assignment?"

Bokuto questioned pulling Akaashi out of his thoughts.

"Oh, it's an examination of one's self."

"Meaning?"

"I don't really know, that's why I came to you."

\-----

"What's your favorite color?"

Akaashi's thoughts traveled instantly to the image of a sunset creeping over the horizon. To jewlery hanging off of a wealthy woman's neck. To blazing eyes full of excitment. To human inferno's that set his heart on fire. To Bokuto and everything that cane with him.

"Blue."

Better to lie than raise suspicion.

\-----

"Hello Akaashi. How are you today?"

"A little down honestly."

"And why is that?"

"Well my friend hel-"

"Which friend?"

"Bokuto."

"The captain?"

Akaashi nodded and his therapist motioned for him to continue with whatever narrative he was about to weave.

"Well he helped me with an assignment that essentially was an examination of one's self whatever that means and he asked me a bunch of questions and wrote down the answers."

"Ok?"

"And I turned it in like that. Just a list of questions and my answers."

"Why do you feel down about this?"

"I feel like I wasn't being honest."

"Ok Akaashi, I have a proposition for you. Why don't you use the rest of this time to write a proper self examination. Then we can see how you feel afterwards. How does that sound?"

"It sounds good."

"Write it as if it was the actual thing you were going to turn in."

\-----

Pen was smudged on Akaashi's hand and he had to remind himself to keep writing instead of focusing on the ink on his palm.

"From a young age my mother described me as a curious child. I personally thought that was an abomination. Of all the things to be called, curious was not on my wish list. I could be smart, handsome, brave, outgoing, anything other than curious.

So I stopped being curious.

Dove into studies, a sport, anything to draw my attention away from that wretched word. In due time "curious" trickled out of my mother's vocabulary. I grew to be smart. That was an adjective I could live with.

It slipped in once or twice and for at least a week following I barely slept, rolling the word around in my mind waiting for anything positive to pop out. 

Nothing ever did.

I started going on anti anxiety meds when I was twelve. 

Anti depressants when I was fourteen.

I split open my thighs in an attempt to stop the low buzzing constantly present in my head. I was unsuccesful and now I'm not allowed in the bathroom without telling my mother first, all the locks have been removed from my house in an attempt to make sure I don't 'do anything stupid', and my father has put his razors behind lock cupboards.

Therapy sessions are on Thursdays.

I have a pill organizer overfilling with brightly colored medication, starkly contrasting how I feel.

As I write this my mind is fuzzy and my hands shaky. It means the pills are doing the job becasue at least I don't have the urge to stick this pen in my eye.

Instead of vivid thoughts of pain and misery I am a blank canvas. A colorless mess.

Now I wonder what it's like, to feel emotions so intensely. How it feels to become so overjoyed that the corners of your eyes turn up and a smile breaks out without thought. I wonder what it's like to genuinely laugh. I wonder.

My world is grey.

Versions of me exist I don't recall creating. The me I am around my parents, a studious son with interests in athletics and dangerous thoughts.

The me I am in front of my team, calm cool and collected a rock for the somewhat unpredictable captain, who's mom makes killer pork buns.

The me I am with Bokuto, miniscule smiles, snickers, gentle hands and accurate sets.

I wonder which me I'll be today.

Deep down in the depths of a soul I've got some convinced doesn't exist, I realize that everyone has versions of themeselves. For the reason that everyone wants to be liked, an understandable goal. To be liked we percieve that this means we must be consistant. A pressure builds that we must always like what we liked in the past.

Never can our interests change, for fear that people may no longer enjoy the company we keep.

At leasts thats how I can explain my different selves without feeling like a manipulative asshole. 

I've been told at outward appearance my face never gives away what I'm feeling. It's the best compliment I've ever been given. 

Consistency is the center of who I wish to be.

An examination of one's self. That's what this assignment was. I suppose this is all I can say on the matter. My personal apologies. 

If I've bummed you out too much, I've got enough anti depressants for the both of us."

Akaashi held the papers in trembling hands and reread everything he had written. Despite the feeling of tears developing in the bottom of his throat he felt better, proud even.

"How do you feel Akaashi?"

"Good, I feel really good."


End file.
